


Blasphemy of Blood

by MorbidOptimist



Category: Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cults, Brother Blood - Freeform, Culture Shock, Dark Magic, Demon/Human Relationships, Demons, F/F, indoctrination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 20:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19070194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidOptimist/pseuds/MorbidOptimist
Summary: Magic was a rare skill for the Hive to find among the directionless youth they controlled; rare enough for Jinx to understand that she was destined for greater things than bank heists and petty curses.There is a Dark Lord, within the chambers of their buried halls.Jinx intends to serve his progeny well.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Jinx considered herself an intelligent girl. 

She stood quietly, tracking her breath, to better observe the other cloak donned bodies within the dimly lit room.

"This day is divine for you, isn't it?" asked Brother Blood, clad in his finest armor; he looked at her with greasy pride and tired, but acceptant eyes.

"-This shall be your one chance to impress Him," warned the deputy headmistress; Jinx offered Mother Mayhem a warm, confident smile. 

She'd been preparing for this function for a long time. 

After all, with her magical gifts, there'd only ever been one path for her, in the Hive.   

There'd been no secret that the school was at least in part, a front for Brother Blood's cult; his influence was global, and his followers spanned across nation lines. Most only ever got that far in their understanding. -Stadiums of rabid fans drooling over her Headmaster's egotistical drivel, heralding him for the Messiah he believed himself to be. 

Jinx was smarter. 

She'd known for years that Blood's power came from someone higher than he; over the beginning years of her schooling she'd pieced it together, bit by bit, from what she'd gleaned from the headmaster's lectures and the spaces between the lines of her textbooks, and the forbidden galley of knowledge within the old quarter library. 

The headmistress, for back then it was the Mother herself who oversaw the school, had watched her unravel the mysteries hidden in plain sight with abject fondness and pride. 

Jinx was the only student in the entire academy, to _really_ know who and what 'the Redcloaks' wandering around their school were really for. 

And now, she reflected confidently, she would be one of them. -Her years of toil and strain, validated before the entire school board to witness. 

Her friends hadn't ever been able to comprehend her choices; she doubted they'd even hear of her final success, now that they had graduated and were to part ways. Her teachers by comparison, had always tempered their expectations of her inevitable success with their measured assurances that she was to fail somewhere along the way. 

None of that would matter now, she thought vindictively; though part of her was loathed to the idea that she'd be stuck mingling with the schoolboard forever now. 

"I will go and inform the Master of your audience," Blood announced dryly, placing a gauntleted hand upon her shoulder; "Mayhem, see to it she looks the part." 

"Of course," the woman obeyed, bowing as the headmaster took his leave.

Jinx, along with the other red cloaks, kept their posture firm and unyielding. 

Quietly, the woman who Jinx had come to know as a mentor for so long stretched out a hand and placed it approvingly against her cheek. 

Mayhem did not speak, but Jinx felt the sentiment well enough to smile genuinely for her.

The moment was all the time wasted the deputy headmistress allowed, before the others in the assembly stepped forward to complete their tasks. 

She was stripped; the motions a bit rough but methodical. She'd expected as much, going in. 

She kept still as best she was able and allowed the flurry of hands to scrub and oil her; her only reflex was to shy when the hands neared her hair. 

Horned as her strands favored to curl, she held pride in their unconventional appearance and felt a little disheartened by the congregation's silent decree to undo them for the Master. A quick smack from Mayhem's hand, however, was all the reminder Jinx needed to halt her fidgeting; to keep her mind busy, she instead tried to focus on her other senses. 

The aromas of the oils they lathered her with were quite pleasing, she felt. They also seemed heady and the scents seemed to fuzz over her nose and throat. 

The whole affair was a pale simile of the Ritual of Sacrifice, she knew; but as they worked through her hair and messaged other substances into her scalp, Jinx couldn't help but consider it all comparably romantic in devotional sort of cosmic sway. 

Apparently satisfied with the drybath, the assembled stepped back and parted as a lone figure stepped forth. 

Immediately the room felt far quieter. 

The Lady of the White Cloak was an understated figure, but one appointed with great respect. 

The women held a robe in her arms for Jinx to take, red as the blood for which Sebastion was named.  

Jinx donned the vermillion garment with reverent reticence.  

"It's time," Mayhem announced, straightening her impeccable posture. 

With a flurry of rippling cloaks, Jinx was processioned through the labyrinth; as they descended the structure grew archaic and carved, all touches of modern architecture either long forgotten or else predated by centuries prior. 

Jinx longed to reach out and trail her fingers along the intricately chiseled stone walls, if only to cement herself to the moment.

The Lady in White led her to a final door. 

Firelight and a deep rumbling, echoed from within. 

"You may turn back here, if you wish," the white-robed woman warned; "But past this, no further."

Jinx nodded as much as her hood allowed. 

"When you enter inside, be silent. He will let you know if he desires you to speak," Mayhem added, standing to Jinx's other side, "Be warned, he'll know if you lie." 

Feeling braced as she would ever be, Jinx nodded for them to open the doors. 

She walked in, the flock of initiated fluttering in behind her.

Her attention almost didn't register the people filing in around her for the sheer majesty of the room's central focus. 

The Woman in White passed her by, and moved to stand beside the Dark King. 

Scath himself, sat before them clad in precious metals and white cloths. 

For a moment Jinx almost didn't breathe. 

"Witch," he addressed, his voice towering around her, nearly forcing her to the floor.

Feeling the urge to answer him, she kept herself silent by focusing on her weakening knees. 

"Jinx is our top student, my Lord," her headmaster exclaimed as though she were a shiny new car; "Her talents could be of use to you, I'm sure." 

The god huffed, his horns glinting in the torchlight. 

Jinx eyed the beast's massive tapering claws.

"She has been well taught," Mayhem added, when Scath looked to her. 

The god's eyes turned to face her, the four of them boring straight through her mind and body. 

She ignored the urge to shed the cloak from her shoulders. 

"You refuse me, little Witch?" the dark lord asked, his boredom for the first time shifting into something like interest. 

Knowing the moment to speak was now, Jinx confidently recited the words she'd longed most to give; "Your power far surpasses any need of mine, but I've come to you with a way to attend you and your legacy. Let me serve your daughter Lord Scath, should she see me worthy." 

Mayhem stifled a gasp of surprise; Jinx almost regretted on not having told the woman her plan, her headmaster's barely contained squirming however was vindicating to watch from her peripheral. 

Her eyes were still cleanly affixed to Scath, who raised his shoulders ever so slightly.

Jinx hoped hers was the first inquiry ever bequeathed to the fabled child she hoped he harbored; this request was her greatest chance of prestige. The child of a god afterall, was still a god; and as a first disciple, Jinx knew she stood a far greater chance of reaping the benefits of service for longer than many that might come after. 

The growl in Scath's chest was unnerving as it settled into a cruel chuckle. 

When it settled, he barked; "Wife. Fetch the Child." 

The Woman in White retreated into the shadows behind the throne. 

Jinx studied the fangs lining Scath's smiling jaws. 

The King's claws dug into his throne's handholds, clearly indulging in emotion. 

"I did not know you had a child, my lord," Sebastion fretted, filling the silence; "Congratulations sire. When did they arrive?"

As if in answer, the room's dim light seemed to deepen, and sharpen in contrast for a flicker of a heartbeat before brightening the expansive chamber entirely. 

While it hadn't been by a great extent, the shift in better illumination caused Jinx's irises to contract; she squinted briefly, as she studied the figures emerging from noneclidiean space. 

The Woman in White remained perfectly poised with a smaller, similarly cloaked figure at her side. 

"Your Father has a gift for you," the Woman murmured flatly. 

The smaller figure drew forward oddly, as if their feet weren't meeting the ground beneath their cloak. 

The fabric was fastened, just as all the other cloaks about the room were fastened; the person's identity and features were all obscured, as she knew her own also were.

The figure stopped short, some feet between her and their father. 

"It time you had souls of your own pledged to you," Scath stated, perhaps to spur the child on.

The child seemed to consider his words, because they drew forward again. 

This time, the figure didn't stop until they were in front of her face.

Jinx didn't know what to do at this point, she realized. 

Following the tension of her physical exhaustion, Jinx allowed her eyes to close, and sank to her knees. 

"It would honor me, to serve you Dark One," she murmured.

The figure regarded her, for a moment. 

Six red eyes observed her soul. 

"You offer willingly?"

"I've been studying this sect for most of my life," Jinx answered cleanly; "I come as quietly as the dead." 

"I cannot guarantee your safety," the figure warned. 

"I've no need of that, young Lord," she countered plainly; "My powers run obtuse to it anyway." 

"Powers?" the figure asked, "What skills have you?"

"I can direct bad luck onto others, though the effects are admittedly messy. My other areas of expertise are trained skills for combat and tactical planning. I am a theif who led a band of the best mercenaries in the City." 

The figure did not seem pleased by her answer.

Jinx struggled to cobble together a more inviting persuasion.

"I am loyal, Dark One. More than that I am young, as you are. I understand the city and its populace in fashions the rest of the sect might neglect. -I can teach you how to navigate it as you wish. I am versatile. I can fight battles you do not wish to; I can recruit others in your name. You need only ask me a task, and I shall ensure it done."

Her words had taken a stronger, resilient assurance; it felt as though her heart was pitching between her teeth. 

"What do you want of me," asked the figure, their cape still fluttering despite the lack of wind.

"I want only for your satisfaction, Dark One," Jinx answered firmly; "If you allow me to be your High Priestess, I shall have achieved the goal I've worked towards since my very first Hive lessons." 

The figure took another moment to think, one Jinx wasted by observing the way her heart pounded within her chest.

"Will you obey anything I ask? Even if you don't wish to?" the figure asked; "I could order you to kill your friends. Your family. Yourself. You would be as my puppet, a toy to do with as I pleased." 

"Nothing would make me happier, young Lord," Jinx answered expectantly; "It is not so different from the ultimatums of the Hive. I take pride in my abilities, a knife is wasted when not in use."    

Slowly, the figure descended; Jinx heard the soft impact of the young god landing on the floor. 

They drew back their hood, only slightly, but it was enough for Jinx to now make out a portion of the figure's face. 

A soft jawline and pale lips, were the only features she was able to discern, along with a single set of white obscured eyes. 

Compelled, Jinx followed the impulse to draw away her own hood; her hair cascaded around her shoulders in tangles of pink and shadowed maroon.  

"You'll do," groused a strange voice, from under the figure's small white cloak.

"Thank you, my Lord," Jinx gasped, as she fell to her hands.  

"You may call me Raven, for now," the figure murmured; "Lest we grow conflated with my parents." 

"As you wish," Jinx readily agreed, daring to look up at the young god's face with a mix of excitement and trepidated glee. 

"Get up then, if you wish to be useful," Raven muttered. 

Jinx scrambled to her feet, eager to relieve the pressure of the stone floor from her knees. 

Almost absently, the young god drifted over to Scath, who offered a palm for her to land on.

"Thank you Father," her new Lord stated; "I'll find something to do with her."

Raven pressed a chaste kiss to Scath's cheek. 

When her Lord turned back to her, Jinx's relief hitched up her body as Raven drifted back to the floor. 

"You will accompany me. There is much to discuss," the young god ordered, already turning away. 


	2. Chapter 2

While this was Jinx's first journey into the underground sanctuary, she knew the inner chambers gave access to few in the following.

Handmaids scurried about the halls, bowing slightly as they passed; neither the young god nor her mother paid them any mind, but Jinx caught the eyes of a few of them in passing and tried not to cringe.

Their looks suggested they felt she had no business being in such sacred spaces.

The Woman in White led them to a door almost devoid of features and ushered them inside.

The room was a breath of luxurious air. 

Well, the air itself was a little stale Jinx admitted, for being as far underground as they were; but the bedroom was well furnished and brightly painted. The fireplace was modest, but added a glow of warmth to the empty feeling environment. The wall panels looked subtly accented with guilds of gold and ivory and everywhere Jinx looked, there seemed to be drapery and the room's overall white pallet was a stark contrast to the stones surrounding them outside the boundary walls.  

The woman shed her robe and hung it over her arm, motioning for her daughter to do the same. 

The woman was beautiful; Jinx saw no mystery as to why the Dark Lord might have chosen her for that reason alone. Her dark hair fell against her back in thick curls and through she seemed a bit pale from lack of sun exposure, she looked strong and otherwise in good health, not that Jinx felt herself an expert in such matters. 

She was a little surprised by the woman's fashion; she'd expected a robe or perhaps a simple dress, certainly not leather pants and corset-waisted shirt.  

The woman wandered past the drawn curtains and into the adjoining room; Jinx watched the young god shed her own cloak with practiced ease.

The girl was a miniature of her mother, just as human, just as pale. She held the same dark curls, though hers held a violet hue as opposed to her mother's blue; and the girl's eyes were a striking violet, Jinx quickly learned, while the mother's seemed a gentle gray.

It almost looked as if Raven was clad in a nightdress. 

Jinx found herself speechless, though she had held no intention to speak. 

The girl seemed ethereally fragile; Jinx half wanted to return the cloak to her shoulders to keep any chill from striking her with something like tuberculous or whatever other equally historical ailments might be trailing her. 

"I was sleeping when Father summoned me," the girl stated; Raven watched her silently for a moment before disregarding her. 

The young god crawled onto the large round bed through the parting of the grand canopy and collapsed against the covers.

Jinx wondered if demons ran in reverse time, and if she should have been scheduled for when the family would have been naturally awake.

"You don't have to wear that in here, you know," Raven spoke quietly from underneath the arm she'd draped across her face.

Jinx let the cloak fall to the floorboards; the color dark and unnerving against the naturally white grain.   

She shivered a bit, as she waited for further instruction. 

When none came, Jinx drifted next to the fireplace to keep warm and sat on her heels. 

Jinx let her attention drift between the hypnotic dancing of the flames to the young god on the bed in turn. 

A single, cool eye snapped open, watching her back. 

"Touch the flames," Raven commanded. 

Without hesitation or rush, Jinx edged her hand into the pit and stifled a hiss as the heat instinctually forced her to draw her hand back. 

"-Raven," a stern voice warned, as the mother rejoined them; the girl waved a hand absently and kept her place on the bed.

Jinx resisted the urge to stick her singed fingertips into her mouth; the pain was a bright stinging, the heat still stuck in.

She hoped it wouldn't blister.  

The young god's mother approached her, her old clothes on her arms. 

"Your things will remain in your room," the woman informed her, "I'll have a spot for you cleared out if you want them down here." 

"Thank you..."

"Your Lady," Raven supplied. 

"-Arella," the countered, her tone firm but warm. 

There was little response from the girl on the bed past a light huffing. 

The sight of her outfit made things feel a little less awkward; she took the articles gratefully and wasted no time in slipping them back on, wincing at the pressures aginst her singed fingers.  

Arella meanwhile, began preparing a kettle on a small table in the center of the room; suddenly, Jinx was able to correlate the room's permeating spiced smells as echos of frequently brewed teas.   

"You could make her do that, Mother," Raven informed the woman groggily. 

"She's your vassal, not your nursemaid," Arella chided; "Come sit."

A great deal of grumbling growls rolled around the young god's bed before the girl saw fit to hold herself up to any extent. 

Obediently however, the girl shrugged off the bed and wandered to one of the table's waiting chairs. 

"You as well, please," the woman instructed Jinx, nodding to the other empty seat as she poured out the drinks. 

Jinx sat, enjoying the feel of the fur throws lining the back of the chair before eyeing the delicate detail of the gold-encased teaset in front of them.

"Jinx was it," Arella asked as she poured a cup for herself.

"Yes my Lady," she answered, taking hold of the tiny cup in front of her; Arella gave her a look before setting aside her cup. 

"These are our private chambers," Arella explained, setting the kettle aside on small dresser; "My husband does not interfere here." 

"Woman's work," Raven added lacklusterly, as she idly swirled her cup. 

Arella ignored her daughter's comment, or else wasn't offended by it enough to elaborate. 

"Do you know anything of the Church of Blood?" the woman asked, before leaning against her dresser. 

"I know of the Church of Scath," Jinx replied confidently, as she eyed the sugar bowl Arella was using; "I studied what I could find of it on my own in the old records. I know that he's a sort of Tindalos hound, having come here from a different plane of reality. I know that he lords over more dimensions and planets than this one. I know that he considers acting against one's nature as the worst of offensives. "

Arella nodded once and passed along the sugar. 

"I even learned his real name," Jinx added, as she used the bowl's tiny spoon to add a tinier amount of sweetness to her drink; "Just as I know that no children he's sired across his dimensions before you, were successful."  

"Why were you so invested about learning about him if you were only going to serve me?" the young god asked from behind her cup. 

"Because it was damned difficult finding anything about you," Jinx answered, "I couldn't find a single scrap that confirmed you existed, outside a prophecy that took me years to find." 

"I wasn't meant to be presented," Raven answered; "It's bizarre you learned of me at all."

"How did you know?" Arella asked lightly, the concern in her voice thinly masked. 

Jinx gently set her cup in front of her and exhaled a nearly quivering breath.

"I don't know if you'd remember it..." she began, the memory overtaking her mind; she pictured with familiar ease the night it happened; the muggy air, the sticky clothing, the shattered glass around her feet. "I prayed, to whatever deity could hear me, for help. I was just a kid at the time, but I know I saw something that night. Something dark and red-eyed that looked like the shadow of a large bird. You stayed with me until morning, and I swore to return that favor to you in any way I could," she reminisced, "-Nobody knew what you were I told them about it. Mother Mayhem eventually believed Scath had assumed a different form to comfort me to what ever end, and she agreed to have me trained but I knew it was never him. I always knew there was a 'you', somewhere." 

"...I remember that, I think," the young god murmured as Arella frowned; "I recall the scolding I received for it anyway. I promise Mother, that I didn't go back again." 

"Well what's done is done," Arella amended, taking another sip; "For what it's worth I believe you chose wisely. Sebastion would not have enjoyed competing with you for my husband's favor." 

"You've still traded one demon lord for another," Raven replied; "You likely won't die a peaceful death." 

"I wouldn't have elsewise anyway," Jinx countered dismissively; "My bad luck put a damper on the whole 'normal living' thing."

"Well, as you're here now, I'll make sure you learn everything you'll need to know," Arella promised; "I can spare a few hours to show you around and teach you the basics over the next few days, after that the pair of you can work out your arrangements." 

"Father said he wanted you at the meeting today," Raven warned. 

"Your Father knows where he can stuff it," Arella chided; "Let me worry about him, Sweetie." 

Jinx bit back a reflexive urge to boast about her skill acquiring prowress; if the women before her were anything like her teachers, she felt certain they'd be more impressed by deeds than by citation. 

"Now then, do you have any questions?" Arella asked politely.

Jinx smiled brightly.

"Only 'when do I get started'," she answered merrily.  

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jinx was surprised by the amount of cleaning that went on inside the labyrinthian temple. The observation first brought a smile to her lips, for the old adages of ‘idle hands’ and ‘devil’s works’, but soon realized that meticulous attention to detail was a form of devotion and self-governance. 

The sect's schedule was hazey; with so many independent cogs working around the metaphorical clock, Jinx was more than a little surprised whenever Arella retrieved her from her work, to usher her back into the private chambers or else loosely suggested she return to the surface to get some sleep, which the woman had done twice. 

Jinx was used to longer days at the Hive, but the adjustment to the longer nights was admittedly a little strange for her.  

Raven seemed aloof to her, and never left the chambers; Jinx didn't yet feel brave enough to ask why, or to try starting up casual conversation. 

The rest of the sect seemed curious of her, as Arella slowly introduced her to their daily tasks. None of the others spoke to her, though as none of them seemed to speak to each other, Jinx felt it all passable enough. 

As Arella introduced her to the ways of things, Jinx stayed by the woman's side as much as she was able and found herself studying the fluidic motions of the other sect members and the daily rituals they carried out; she paid particular attention to the way scrubbing the floors left soreness in her shoulders and heels, as well as aggrivated her healing hand. She similarly kept note of the arrays of herbs stowed away for differential diffusings, and to elegance within the simple motions of candle snuffing and torch lightings. 

The brief fascination with the symbolic gestures of servitude faded after a few days, though she continued her part without complaint; she started instead, to study Raven's mother specifically.

Over the next few days, she studied the way Arella acted with Brother Blood, Mother Mayhem, and the other initiated, and the way she carried out conversations both with Scath and with their daughter; she noted the overall calming effect the woman seemed to exude. Arella took great care in her details, be them in the form of verbal delivery, or in the smaller gestures such as the way she folded Raven's linens and poured the young god's tea. 

Jinx memorized as much as she could of such things, in the first week of her arrival, until she felt confident enough from her observing to begin performing some of the tasks herself.  

She began by lighting the chamber candles; there were many in the personal rooms, as no electricity seemed connected so far down. 

Raven paid the actions no mind, choosing instead to continue her conversation with her mother without interruption; Jinx considered it a success.

She next tried preparing the young god's tea, imitating the steps she'd watch Arella take several times each day. 

There seemed to be an initial hesitance, between each of the women as she poured their cups, but it passed, and each of them took their cups in turn. 

Jinx noted the way Raven's eyes followed her, when she backed away from the table to set away the kettle. 

Confident that the young god was more used to her presence, Jinx doubled her efforts and focused her attention on the young lord over with each day passing.

The girl was lethargic and prone to flashes of brief flares of temper, but was largely solemn and obedient when in the presence of her parents. 

Much of Jinx's assistance was guesswork; with so little to work with, Jinx found Raven's absence of temper to be the best gauge to work by. 

When the girl rose from her bed, Jinx readied the chair the young god likely desired; she guessed when the girl was in need of extra blankets, or stoked flames, and learned through experimentation when the young lord wished her to be busy about the room, or else seated quietly out of the way.   

The young lord's mood seemed to steep into a deeper uncomfort over the week, despite Jinx's attempts to passively alleviate the girl's stress and after returning from a night of tussled sleep within her old Hive room, Jinx entered the personal chambers to find a clawfoot tub left a few feet away from the fire. 

'See to it', was the only order Arella gave her, before whisking herself from the chambers; leaving a just-waking Raven and herself in the room. 

A quick inspective glance told Jinx that the tub needed filling; she began the arduous task of fetching water from the washroom further down the chambers, where Arella's attendants washed the textiles. 

The young god watched her, each time she filled the tub with another bucketful, prompting Jinx to attempt to pour her bucket's contents as cleanly as possible without rush or spillage. 

The young lord seemed content to watch her, from her bed. Lounging as though existing was some great effort. 

The attendants in the washroom seemed more confused with each of her returns; Jinx didn't pay them any mind and was only grateful they didn't ask any questions.  

During her last trip, the young god stopped her with a gesture of her hand; Jinx paused and waited, noting the slight smile on Raven's features. 

"I do have magic, you know," the young god chided quietly, which Jinx took to mean the girl had been somehow capable of procuring water on her own.

"You do have power to command me," Jinx answered promptly; Raven's brows lifted in surprise, vindicating her tired muscles somewhat.

Jinx turned her attention back to the tub and saught about heating it; though the water she had used had been initially hot, it had likely cooled over her many trips.

Without hesitation, she walked to the young god's bed and retrieved the bed warmer tucked neatly underneath; having filled it the night prior, Jinx was happy to find the coals still thick with heat and wasted little time affixing it under the soaking tub. 

The young god gathered a thick blanket about her shoulders and continued to watch in silence, the quiet air of waiting between them almost prompted Jinx to speak. 

It was only when the water had the faintest beginnings of bubbles that Jinx waved her hand over the water to test the heat and beckon her patron forth. 

Reluctantly the young god released the blanket from around her shoulders and drew next to the tub; Jinx turned her head as the girl unfastened the string about her neck, letting her garment pool on the floor. 

When Raven huffed, she forced her gaze back and dutifully watched the girl retreat into the steeped water, observing her for any signs of displeasure. 

The young god leaned back and settled, closing her eyes as she drew in the heat; sensing that the girl would appreciate a few moments in such a state, Jinx set about picking up the discarded garments around the room before taking another few minutes to remake Raven's bed. 

When she was finished she exhaled a breath, taking a moment's pause, before refocusing on the girl in the bath. 

It took her a few tries to figure out where Arella kept the things she was looking for, but before long Jinx had procured a bath tote and soaps.

She took the deceivingly delicate-looking metal caddy and placed it near the tub.

For a moment, she waited. 

"Well," the young god asked absently, her gaze elsewhere in the distance; "Are you going to just stand there and watch me?" 

Jinx swallowed her startlement at her patron's voice and leaned forward to pull up her sleeves and rifle through the caddy; none of the bottles were labeled, and Jinx had to open a few to discern which of the liquids was meant for lathering, and which were meant for rejuvenating skin. 

She worked her fingers through the young god's hair slowly; it was thick, and she didn't want to risk mistaking tangles for curls. 

Raven seemed to relax as she scratched gently away at her scalp and rung swaths of sudds over her shoulders; it was pleasant, Jinx decided, feeling such a moment of peace with her patron. 

After a while of needless extra lathering, Jinx felt unwilling to end the moment and used the modest chalice in the caddy to rinse the suds away from Raven's face.

Just as Jinx was biting back a hum, the young god's eyes snapped open. 

Jinx waited for a heartbeat to see if she would speak. 

"Your turn," Raven stated. 

A twinge of the scabbing skin over her fingertips flared over her nerves; unwilling to refuse her patron's first personal command, Jinx steadied her breathing and hesitantly stepped back, suddenly unsure of where to put her own clothes and whether her lord actually meant for her to join or not. 

She moved slowly, providing ample time for the girl to clarify her orders if Jinx had in fact, gotten them wrong; but the young god was silent as she watched her, a dim glimmer of fondness perhaps resting on her face as Jinx shed her layers. 

She'd had communal showers before of course, in the gym showers of the Hive, but slowly dipping into the tub with her patron was a different feeling altogether; while not intimate, the air of companionability was strange to experience. As if for this moment, her god dined them equals.  

When she was settled, she was seated opposed to Raven, her legs tucked as neatly against the side of the tub as she could manage. 

Raven smiled at her; the expression oddly cruel. 

Jinx was surprised initially, to see the same bottle she'd used in Raven's hair hovering before her in a cloud of black shadow; the sight was heartening to see.

The small shroud of darkness was the confirmation she hadn't realized she'd been waiting for; proof that she'd chosen correctly. 

Her mind raced to the night in her past, comparing the shadow of her memory to the shimmering absence of light hovering before her; as she struggled not to let the tears in her eyes well up, she noted the look in her young god's eyes and forced herself to move. 

Jinx plucked the bottle out of the darkness and started working it into her own hair.   

She was delighted to find that the substance was able to break down the oils still gathered in the pink strands, building on her already rapidly grown good mood; her hair began to lift and twist in the familiar formations that Jinx had grown so enamored of. 

Raven's look of interested surprise was something of an added bonus. 

When she'd finally finished stripping her strands of oil and dust, she grinned and dunked her head under the water, rustling her pink locks wildly before resurfacing with a smile. 

She swore her patron smirked, and Jinx relaxed, feeling more refreshed than she had in weeks. 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Lured by the slowing drumbeats, Jinx took a cursory peek into the main chamber as she passed by a few scurrying stewards, their drawn cloaks clenched tightly set about their task of cleaning up; judging by the congregation still strewn about inside, Jinx could only assume that the ritual had been successful. 

Through her brief glance between the formative pillars, she could make out the White Lady astride the Demon Prince, the carnal joining no doubt the only buffer between an otherwise maddening catharsis of violence for their God. 

The scents of ritual oils and blooded meat flowed thickly through the air, doing relatively little to mask the more pungent smells of ritualized lust. 

Pushing such notions aside, Jinx shivered once from the celebrations and turned to leave them all to it, until a hand on her shoulder caught her in a manner of surprise. 

Readjusting herself, she found her old headmaster regarding her with some amusement; his already aged appearance seemed disheveled from partaking of the evening's proclivities. 

So how have you been enjoying yourself, Jinx?” the headmaster asked; “Are you enjoying your position as a Priestess?”

“I am quite honored to fulfill my role as my Lord’s _Head Priestess_ , yes,” Jinx corrected plainly; though she was tired, she kept her tone otherwise servile. 

“Yes, how clumsy of me,” Brother Blood answered, his conman smile coyishly bright; “What with your lack of fellows and protocols, you can see how I would be prone for mistake.”

Jinx nodded, as if absolving him for his transgression; “Such new adjustments can understandably take time for those most engrossed in the past.” 

His smile wavered briefly; a point to her scoreboard, she supposed. 

Within the next participle of breath however, his usual composure was regained. 

“You’ll have to _regale_ us ‘oldtimers’ then, with your ‘newage’ ritualism; I’m sure Lord Scath will be most _pleased_ to see your efforts on His Daughter’s behalf.”

His jibe metaphorically poked between her ribs; acknowledging that she'd yet to hold Mass however was not a loss she was willing to surrender. 

“As My Prince wishes her adorations,” Jinx worded sternly; “So shall I ensure them to be.”

With that, she shrugged off the encounter with as much pride and politeness as she could embody before continuing her journey to her Lady’s chambers, her delivery of fresh blankets losing warmth in her arms.

She traded nods with the Deputy Headmistress along the way, and gratefully ducked inside the closed quarters before any other irascible servitors impeded her path. 

She sighed deeply, closing the door with her back. 

“Rough waters outside?” Raven asked serenely, her nearly uniform tone a soothing balm to Jinx’s ears. She was laid a length along her bed, a cracked-cover book lazily thumbed within her hands. 

Jinx held her lip between her teeth, not yet ready to speak; her Prince was patient.

-The flickering knowledge that she’d been in Raven’s service for nearly three moons without proper ceremony to profess it made her wonder if her deity was perhaps _too_ patient. 

“I can sense your emotions from here,” the young Lord quipped, her face ghosted with traces of interest and concern; “Does my Father trouble you?”

“No my Lord,” she answered cleanly, placing the blankets neatly folded upon their shelf; “His Lordship has been kind to me. ...I suppose I’m just thinking about ordinary human things.” 

“Oh?” Raven asked, perking up some; her eyes seemed to sharpen as she levied her focus; “I forgot that it was one of my Father’s ‘party’ nights. You would have been welcome to partake in it, fond of you as He and Mother seem to be.”

Jinx exhaled in some manner of brief amusement, before her somber air returned; “Thank you my Lord, but I had no inclination to leave you here alone all night.”

“Ah, but here I hide, confined in my own chambers,” Raven quipped, almost jovial with deprecation; “You know this of me. Tell me then, what mortal trials must trouble you so,” the young God commanded. 

Jinx allowed herself her vulnerability, knowing that it’d only be through humility that she would still yet please.

“Have I been neglecting my duties as your High Priestess, my Lord?” Jinx asked plainly; “Surely it would be no great pain to commemorate you with your own prayer or ceremony.”  

She watched the pallor drain even further from her Lordling’s face; the girl clearly did not like the idea of being Observed.

“So it has been my Father’s Hounds gnashing at your heels,” Raven murmured, her surprise drifting deeper into a scowl.

“I grew up with the bastard,” Jinx shrugged off dismissively; “I know how to deal with him. He’s egotistical but he’s of no concern.” 

Her Lord’s brow raised in reply; “If you’re certain, then,” she graced. 

Jinx adjusted her posture, fixing her shoulders; “The point still stands, that I’m meant to lead your following. I understand if you do not desire grand gestures of Faith and Supplication, but it might be wiser to consider what you _do_ wish of your Sect, sooner rather than later, lest you remain solely an extension of your Father’s mythology.” 

The young God seemed to consider her argument. 

“Your words are as sharp as they are honest, Firstling,” Raven admitted, nodding once; “You’re right in that I’ve put little thought into my own place as a figurehead, and that I’ve no real desire for my relative seclusion and anonymity to be broken. -This likely may not be so for my parents, I’m sure,” she added languidly; the demon lord sighed, slid the bedding from her thighs, and stood. 

The book fell forgotten to the floor. 

“Well, what are some of _your_ values?” Jinx asked, as she watched the shifting thoughts mood about her Patron’s posture; observing the young god as she was, soon brought a tired smile to Jinx’s face.

“Stop patronizing me,” the Lordling commanded, at least partially aware of her trains of thought; “I’m not an infant and my current considerations are not to be delighted by.”

“I can’t help it if I’m pleased to be in your company,” Jinx replied happily enough, as the young god started to circle the walking space in thought. 

“You see, this is the very reason I was sheltered here for so long,” Raven replied, hardly glancing at her, though Jinx knew her Patron’s words to be directed; “If I endorse the beliefs of my Mother’s Tranquility my Father should be displeased, and I cannot abide by his virtues of Vice, lest my Mother disown me. There’s really nothing of it, but to exist in impasse.” 

As her Lord stopped pacing, she came to slouch before the fireplace; the bathing orange glow trickling warm lit kisses upon her silhouette. 

A returning image came to mind at the sight; _of herself and a ring of candles on her bedroom floor-_

She bit back the soothing peace the tandem emotion seemed to find.  

“If I may be so bold,” Jinx offered lightly, restraining her impulse to reach for the girl’s arm; “Ambiguity is often the nature of these things. It’s not so hard to find a middle ground, and, speaking of ground, it’s more than time I think you’ve stould on some.”  

The young Lord turned to face her, the look of mild surprise adorning her face was more than enough incentive for Jinx's resolve to harden into steeled initiative. 

“I think it’s time I show you around the surface,” she clarified, smiling confidently; “Let you find some values and moral highhorses of your own.” 

 "A fine plan, save for the issue of my cloistering," Raven baited, crossing her arms; "I doubt we would be unimpeded or rewarded for such an absence."

"You said so yourself, that your Father is fond of me," Jinx offered plainly, "He'll see reason, if it's to your benefit." 

Raven raised her brow.

"If anything good of you reflects well of Him, he'll allow me to chaperone you in the world above," Jinx explained; "He practically _hired_ me for this."   

Somewhat reluctantly, the young God rocked their weight between their hips as their apparent indecision came to a conclusive standstill. 

"Very well," she agreed, her tone unswayable; "But I can't save you if he takes offense to such a plea." 

 _You're more powerful than you yet realize, my King,_ Jinx thought; "He would be remiss of me if I didn't plead on your behalf, my Prince."   

The young God turned her gaze, her focus moving beyond their conversation. 

"In the meantime, how about I put a kettle on?" Jinx asked, already taking action to do so; "Something to keep us warm while we wait for the festivities to finish up."

"Acceptable," Raven distantly agreed.  

 


End file.
